Ta-dah! As a beginning-of-summer present, I decided to make this chapter longer than planned. Enjoy.
Chapter 4: Confrontations
Kratos had been forgotten. This suited him just fine. He smirked as he slunk away, watching as the group ascended the stairs. With all the commotion, nobody would notice if he wasn't there. Kratos ducked into an alleyway, back behind an inn, and came to a door. Anyone else approaching this door would probably not give it a second glance. It was iron, had no handle or keyhole, and most likely just led to the sewers, anyway. Thus, anyone passing near just passed on by. Well, most everyone. Kratos raised a hand, floating where a handle would be. A recitation, the spell words too quick for a mortal ear. The door slid open, and he walked down the stairs, into the blackness of the passage beyond.
Kratos walked down a long hallway, decked out with a spiffy white paint scheme. Fluorescent lights cast a harsh glow, flashing off Kratos's sword. He walked to the very end, approaching another door, this time with a handle. His identity had already been verified 14 times, and the DNA and fingerprint sample on the door made a total of 15, unlocking the door and allowing access to Cruxis' major base. The room beyond was clearly meant for long-term habitation, as it sported a bed, fully stocked kitchen, and all the other necessities for life. One or two things, however, seemed slightly amiss. In the far corner was a large screen, which seemed to be a communicator of some sort. As well, a tiny elevator, seemingly for one was on the far wall. Kratos ignored everything but the communicator, which he promptly turned on, seemingly waiting for something. A few moments later, his wait was over. Yggdrasil's face dominated the screen, seemingly sublime, although an expert at reading body language could see the barely concealed fury.
Kratos happened to be one of those experts. He cleared his throat, and then began. "Good afternoon."
"Is it really?" The reply was harsh, like a dog's bark.
Kratos let the line go silent for a moment, and then began again. "I assume you wish my report?"
"No, I want to talk about the weather. Of course I want the damn report!"
Kratos almost winced. Almost. Yggdrasil had been remarkably irritable as of late. Strangely, whenever he inquired as to what was the matter, Yggdrasil either yelled at him or brushed him off. Kratos wasn't sure, but he thought that Yuan may have something to do with it, considering Kratos hadn't been able to contact him at all. However, Kratos was blasted out of his musings by a sharp voice.
"Kratos?" The voice was a threat, sharp and challenging.
"Sorry, my lord." Kratos mumbled. "Here is my report. Upon receiving the information about Abyssion, I made all haste to the Shadow Temple. However, once I arrived, Abyssion had transformed and the battle was already in progress." He paused, hearing a muttered curse from Yggdrasil. "I was incapacitated almost completely by a sudden spell. I passed out, and from what I gathered afterwards… Uh…"
Yggdrasil raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Kratos?"
Kratos really did wince this time. "Lloyd was split in two."
"So he is dead?"
"Not exactly…"
"This is pretty!" Colette piped up.
Lydia groaned. "What did I say about pink?"
Colette regarded the lacy undergarment. "Oh yeah…"
Lydia rolled her eyes, seeking out Sheena. Ah, there she was. Lydia strolled over with a groan.
Sheena's eyebrows shot up, giggling slightly. "She didn't."
"Yep," Lydia sighed. "I swear, she's addicted to pink or something."
They made their way to the cashier, chatting and breaking into giggles periodically. Colette was slightly put out, considering there was no pink among the purchases. They walked out of the store, deciding where to go next.
"Should we go to the tailor?" Sheena wondered aloud.
Lydia frowned. "Well, don't you want to shop arou…?" She stopped abruptly at the sight of Colette's face, which was staring over at a particularly lacy pink dress. "Yeah, that seems like a good idea. C'mon, Colette, let's go." They made their way to the tailor's, chatting animatedly.
"So, what do you think of being Lydia again?" Sheena asked, suddenly serious.
"Well, it's weird, because I still remember being Lloyd, and all these memories… It's hard to sort out. But, I like being Lydia," She paused, hearing a wolf whistle. "Even with a few drawbacks."
Sheena peered over Lydia's shoulder at the offender. "I dunno, he sure doesn't look like a drawback to me." The three girls broke into giggles again.
"Cute laugh," came an oily voice from up ahead. The group whirled around. The man curled up to Lydia. "Bet you look even cuter."
In one fluid movement, Lydia elbowed an uppercut, causing him to nearly bite his tongue in half. "Hit the road, loser." She snarled at him.
"Ow… Ow… ok, I'm sorry!" He hobbled off, moaning softly.
"Well, the new Lydia's certainly giving my slapping arm a rest." Sheena said, laughing again.
"I suppose so," Lydia said, smiling back. "Let's go find that tailor!"
Yggdrasil blinked. "The damned gender bending is none of my business. All I care about is Abyssion, and stopping him! You say he fled to Niflheim?"
"Yes, that is correct."
"Damn it! Yggdrasil muttered. "This is Zelos's fault. If he had contacted us, even hinted at something…" He took several deep breaths. "This can't happen again. You must convince them to take Abyssion out. He is far too dangerous; a large angelic force would be nearly useless. You know about Niflheim."
Kratos nodded. He knew full well. The dark powers all but negated angelic strength.
"Then go!"
Kratos went, closing the link.
Zelos moped around his house, glancing in mirrors and humming tunes to himself. Bored, bored, bored, bored, and more bored. He contemplated calling up one of his "sweet hunnies", but for some reason, this idea didn't appeal to him as much as usual. It was, as usual, due to Lydia. He couldn't stop himself; he wanted to be with her so badly… But it could never happen. He was part of Cruxis, it could never be. He thought that her changing back was a solution, but now she was back and the feelings he had shelved were coming to light again. A thousand times, he cursed his feelings for getting in the way of his common sense. All of a sudden, his exosphere pulsed once. Zelos moved into his study. Who was it this time? He sat down in a chair, regarding a particularly ornate pillar like there was an elevator hidden inside it.
Which, of course, there was. Kratos stepped into the tiny elevator, and pushed a sequence of buttons. With that, the elevator rocketed upwards, slowing within seconds. He had arrived.
The pillar slid open, and Kratos stepped into the room. He nodded at Zelos.
"Zelos."
"Kratos."
"We need to talk."
Lloyd cracked his knuckles. Time to go. He entered the arena, viewing his opponent across the dusty battlefield. He looked strong, but wasn't very confident, if the nervous sweat was anything to go by. They met in the middle, shook hands. The announcer launched introductions into the crowd.
"Welcome to our final round one match! We've got an exciting match for you folks today! Over here, we have the Fearsome Warrior, Honorous!" Honorous took a bow. "And over here we have…" the announcer squinted at his card, then looked over at Lloyd, an amused smile on his face. "The Peeping Tom, Lloyd!"
"No look, it was a misundersta…"
"BEGIN!"
Lloyd jumped back, avoiding a heavy blow right off the bat. Lloyd shook his head. Honorous would wear himself out if he kept throwing blows like that. Lloyd settled in, dodging another heavy strike. Should be easy enough.
For the next few minutes, Lloyd ducked and weaved through Honorous's blows. Exertion was beginning to show on the other man's face, and Lloyd was starting to get some smaller blows through after the larger strikes. But he couldn't dodge forever. He had to strike before Honorous got lucky. Lloyd picked his moment well. He ducked under a particularly fierce swing, and then delivered a series of blows, slicing chunks of Honorous's armor. He finished with a huge blow to the head, knocking down Honorous. He didn't get back up.
"Victory!" Screamed the announcer.
Lloyd nodded, acknowledging the victory, then wandered back into the dressing rooms, brushing by a Tasden who was heading for the ring. Tasden whirled, eyes burning embers of hate. He made to go after Lloyd, but…
"Tasden!" The gate guard snapped out. "You're in. Unless you're too chicken." The guard snickered.
Within seconds, Tasden's whip was around the unfortunate guard's neck. "Don't you ever call me that again." And he was gone, like a shadow banished by light.
Lloyd smiled, reveling in his victory. It had been far too easy. He got up, sliding over to the standings board. Hmm… Presea had been the winner. That meant he would fight her… He heard the roar of the crowd. Surely the other match hadn't been so fast? He heard a knock on the door. "Who is it?" he said.
"Presea."
Lloyd walked over, opening the door. "What is it?"
Presea seemed almost relieved to see him. "Can I talk to you alone?"
This sentence pricked up the ears of the newly returned Tasden. She was a friend? Well, this wouldn't do. Lloyd couldn't be alerted to his plan… He breathed a sigh of relief as the guards separated them, bringing them to their assigned entry points. Tasden saw Presea shoot Lloyd a significant glance. She would tell him in the fight! Well, he would just have to do something about that. Grinning wickedly, he made his way to a balcony reserved for fighters. He watched the two fighters enter, but didn't roar with the crowd. In a harsh undertone, he muttered a spell, whip flicking in time with the syllables. Then, a ring of darkness, invisible to the mortal eye, flew down, landing above Presea's head. Tasden snickered as he watched it descend. It tightened once, twice, and then disappeared. That would be plenty. He descended the stairs, not bothering to watch the fight. He had one of his own to prepare for.
The sun blazed down on the two competitors. The announcer began shouting out a greeting. "Welcome to the Coliseum! Welcome to our last semi-final round!" Presea frowned. He seemed to be slurring his words, voice undulating. "Here we have Lloyd, the Peeping Tom," Presea tried to chuckle, but a harsh rasp came out instead. She felt dizzy… A nice sleep would feel so good right now… The announcer continued. "Versus Presea, the… the… oh my!"
She was out cold. A medic rushed out, loading her onto a stretcher. They ran back into the main building. Lloyd matched them for every step. A doctor was ready and waiting. "Hmm… Well, it looks like it's just heat stroke, but I'll need to make sure." He looked over at Lloyd. You should go; you have a fight to get ready for. Lloyd trembled with relief. At least it wasn't serious… He heard a mumble from Presea. He leaned over, trying to make out the words.
Lloyd…LloydwarndangerLloyd…
The voice was faint, but the meaning was clear. Something really was amiss. A guard looked over at Lloyd. "They're starting now, get going!" Lloyd nodded. There was only one way to find out. He turned, facing the entrance.
"Let's go."
At the opposite entrance, Tasden was getting a similar treatment. "You all ready to go?" A guard asked slowly.
"Yes."
"Are you sure you have a safety on that whip? Cause, I don't know what they're supposed to look like."
Tasden grinned, sliding the safety guard off. "Now it is. Yeah, I'm glad you asked, we don't want anyone getting hurt." Then the doors opened, and the fighters were in the ring.
The announcer smiled. "You know the competitors! You know their styles! Lloyd vs. Tasden! Gentlemen, shake hands." The figures shook. "Now, begin!"
Lloyd leaped back, barely avoiding a huge crack from the whip. He cursed. Whips were nearly impossible to dodge, he had been lucky. But… Each strike left the attacker wide open… Tasden grinned, throwing another strike. Lloyd was out of range… Or so he thought. Tasden spoke a word, the whip extended, wrapping around Lloyd's midsection. The pull back nearly cut Lloyd in two. He fell onto one knee. "Hold!" screamed the referee. He began counting. Ten would mean a knockout. 1… 2… 3… 4… Lloyd looked up. There was no way it could have hurt so badly… There were safeties on… Or were there? He stared in alarm, as blood leaked out from his shirt.
"He hasn't got a safety!" Lloyd yelled out. The crowd gasped, and Tasden snarled.
The referee moved over. "Let's see the whip, Tasden." Tasden sighed in defeat, holding out the whip's handle. The referee rolled his eyes. "The other end."
"Gladly." Tasden snapped the other end around, catching the ref on the shoulder and cutting deeply. The crowd gasped again, and guards began running from every corner.
Tasden whirled, facing Lloyd. "Now, you die," he hissed, fixing his blood red eyes into Lloyd's. He began a strike, the whip curled…
"Wind Blade!" Genis screamed from his position in the stands. The full force of the spell hit the whip, shattering it into pieces.
Tasden growled. There was no time for another attack, the knights were too close. He turned to face the Genis, and screamed out an incantation. A ring of fire erupted around him, whirling itself into a cocoon. The flames turned black, and then wound themselves into a tiny ball.
Then came an explosion. Everyone was blown onto their backs, save for one. Genis stood still, watching the point where Tasden's eyes had been. He had seen a message in them, clear as though the man had shouted it at him.
You're next.
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